The Boy With The Demon Blood
by Oxygenhelpsyouwrite
Summary: The croatoan virus that spread after the night of cold oak is somehow linked to Sam's powers. Will Dean and Sam be able to figure out how before it is too late for Sam? A lot of brotherly angst and bucketloads of Hurt/Limp!sam WARNING: character death. You have been warned.
1. No Shade In The Shadow Of The Cross

**Hi it's me again!**

 **i know I'm very bad at updating my stories and I would like to say I have a valid excuse but... I don't.**

 **I wanted to do a completely hurt Sam story where I can find a way to torture the boys in every way possible as I have been seriously lacking in some brotherly angst. and yes I know I'm evil.**

 **Im excited to see how you all like this story/ concept and I'd love love love it if you could leave a review with any feedback.**

 **Lily x**

* * *

The jagged blade plunged easily into jakes stomach, his eyes going wide with pain and shock.

With a grunt, sam pushed the blade somehow further, his hands becoming coated in thick, viscous blood, and Jake exhaled his last dying breath.

With one final exert of energy, sam removed the knife, a spurt of blood splattering over Sam's muddy jacket. Jakes body, lifeless and limp, fell to the ground. The dribble of blood on the corner of jakes' mouth and the frozen horror in his dead eyes forced Sam to look away from the scene.

His legs suddenly giving out, sam stumbled backwards against the rotting wooden fence. Jake had still broken his arm, and its incessant dull aching was just a constant reminder of what Sam had done.

The sound of clapping startled Sam and he spun around, his feet slipping in the mud and he fell to the wet ground, the air forced out of his lungs.

Azazel, his yellow eyes shining in the gloom, stood above sam, quietly chuckling at Sam's unfortunate clumsiness.

"Azazel." Sam voice quivered in fear.

Azazel raised his eyebrows in affirmation.

"Congratulations sammy boy."

Sam scrambled to his feet, taking a cautious step backwards as azazel stepped towards Sam.

"I had my bets on you. The other demons, well, they didn't think you'd be able to complete the test. But I guess ya proved them wrong, sammy?"

Sam remained silent, praying dean would arrive soon before anything bad could happen.

"Staying silent, eh sammy? It's nice. Suits you. Means you're listening to me."

Azazel smiled.

"Samuel Winchester. The inglorious winner. The boy with the demon blood. You, well, you are important."

Sam frowned, cocking his head defiantly at azazel.

"Because there's a war coming. And you're gonna lead my army when your time comes. It's your _destiny_."

Sam shook his head minutely.

"No, I...I won't do anything for you." He said angrily, spitting out his last word.

"Your actions speak louder than your words sammy. And I happen to know, that when the time comes, you'll deliver, you'll fulfill your prophecy, you'll abandon those around you for the _much_ greater cause. You'll become what your brother hunts."

Azazel let out a chuckle.

"You, my boy, are the key to the apocalypse."

And with those daunting final words, azazel dissapeared.

* * *

And then sam woke up with a jarring image of jakes' lifeless body.

He knew this dream. He'd had it countless times before, and if he was asked to recite everything that is said, he'd be able to do it with ease.

The dream was a torturous replay of the night at cold oak. And it never changed or varied, a cruel and almost constant reminder of what he had done. And each time he's forced to listen to the same squelching noise of his blade entering jakes-

"Sam? Are you alright? You seem a little-" dean waved his hand obscenely. "-out of it."

Sam glanced up at his brother, recognising the familiar moving of Deans hands moving in the darkness; cleaning his weapons methodically. It was all so precise, sam often thought it bordered on obsessive.

He understood Deans need for a routine though, the constant state of chaos they lived in would be living hell without it.

"You just going to stare at me all Michael Myers or-?"

Sam scoffed, stretching out his long limbs and rolling onto his side, facing away from Dean.

"I plan on going back to sleep."

It was Deans turn to scoff. Sam flinched as he heard the familiar sound of Dean sliding his knife into his boot.

"Good luck with that. Bobby wants us to scout for any supplies today. Don't know when he'll realise basically everywhere's already been looted."

"Yuh.." sam yawned back.

Sam groaned as Dean threw the curtains wide open, letting the startlingly orange sun into their dusty motel room.

* * *

Their 'Mission' had started of well. They had found an abandoned supermarket with a couple of cans of soup and an incredibly out of date pie that Dean ridiculously insisted on taking.

it had all gone downhill when they'd split up to scan the area for more supplies. Sam and Dean had gone off together, and when Sam heard a rustling down an alleyway, he couldn't resist the temptation, sneaking off without Dean realising.

As soon as the shadows had envoloped him, he knew it was a mistake.

Why would he ever walk off without dean? He was such an idiot. And now he's stuck in this dark alleyway, approaching imminent danger, and there's no turning back.

The moving shadow behind the bins couldn't be anything over than a Crote. The knife he gripped so hard that it was turning his rough skin white was held out in front of him, his hands sweating uncontrollably.

He tried to get his breathing under control as he approached the disformed figure crouchingbehind a dumpster. He licked his dry lips and rounded the corner. Sam had no time to react before the malformed creature spun around and jumped onto him, forcing him down to the wet ground.

He hit the concrete head first, the pain leaving him shocked and winded. The creature snarled, going for Sam's neck, but Sam's instincts kicked back in and he swung his knife in a clumsy arc, digging into the crotes tough, thick skin.

It hissed and fell backwards, giving sam time to take in its horrific, nightmare inducing appearance. The white skin covering its naked, bony body was covered in scars and muck, it's eyes cat like, red slits illuminated by the streetlight.

Of course, this wasn't the first crote he had fought, but it was certainly the first he had fought alone, without the knowledge of his more than capable brother fighting alongside him.

He needed dean, right now.

Sam scrambled to his shaking legs, holding his knife out, ready to fight. The crote moved towards him with frightening agility and speed, wildly lashing out, causing a jolt of blinding pain to burn through Sam's body. He cried out as he fell to the ground, blood dripping from his cheek.

Dean ran towards his little brother and the crote, adrenaline coursing through his body as he lifted up his beloved magnum and aimed it the gruesome monster. With no hesitation he fired, and the creature let out a feline howl, turning towards dean, animalistic savagery in its dark eyes.

* * *

Joy flooded through Sam's battered body when he heard a nearly deafening gunshot and the disturbing whine of the crote, his whole body aching and his cheek numb with pain.

Pushing his exhausted body to his feet once again, he went cold as turned to see the crote wrestling his disarmed brother to the ground.

"Dean!" Sam mumbled, blood spraying from his lips, now urgently limped towards his brothers struggling frame.

He couldn't bare this.

"Sammy-" Dean locked eyes with his brother as the crote went for Deans neck.

Sam's eyes widened.

And in that moment of pure terror, of the blinding agony and loss that threatened Sam, he weakened.

He splayed his agile fingers in front of him, focusing on the crote that was now frozen, fangs bared against his brothers naked neck.

Time slowed down, Sam's focus only growing as he grew more and more angry. He felt blood trickle from his nose, and he forced his last remaining energy into killing the spiteful monster.

It was forced up Into the air and off of his brother, it's mouth contorting in agony and confusion as Sam turned it around to face him.

He felt his focus drift, his energy dissipate, and he brought his shaking hand into a fist, in a finalistic aggressive motion.

The creature, struggling for air, clawed it's contorting neck, it's untamed nails drawing blood as it grew more and more desperate. And finally, as sam reached his peak, the creature went limp, it's head drooping in utter defeat.

Sam realeased the tension from his body, and the crote dropped to the floor like a rag doll as sam stumbled and took a desperate, ragged breath, his vision turning dark for a split second.

He uprighted himself, knowing Dean would be watching his every move, and with his trembling hand he wiped across his bloody lips.

Sam looked up sheepishly at his brother, and their eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity.

Sam knew all too well what he had done. Dean had warned him oh so many times. Of what dean would eventually be forced to do, According to their dads dying words.

Sam knew the steely, hardened look dean was giving him. It send a cold shiver down his spine and unable to bare the tension, Sam broke eye contact as the sound of Bobbys running feet approaching them.

* * *

 **thanks for reading x**


	2. Back To The Old House

**Hey everyone!**

 **I've been really busy for the past week, and haven't found much time for writing. But I've scraped the up and I'm actually pretty pleased with it.**

 **i hope you enjoy and it would be appreciated if you left a review x**

* * *

Sam and Dean sat in complete silence, Sam strumming his fingers against the impala's elegant frame, Dean completely focused on the road. The tension in the car was building, and so was Sam's uncomfortableness, he was desperately deciding whether or not to break the silence.

Sam coughed.

Sam glanced at his stubborn brother; no evidence of any reaction.

Sam started to strum his fingers again.

* * *

Would his brother ever just fucking give up? It was taking every ounce of Dean's restraint not to do something terrible like crash his baby, and Sam's awkward allergy to silence wasn't helping to relieve his tension.

Dean needed to spend a couple of of hours away from his little brother, go flirt with some bar maid's and have a couple of beers, but he knows that just isn't possible any more.

He knows all too well what would happen if he did, and as much as his little brother infuriates him, Dean couldn't even think about letting something terrible like that happen.

But the image of the anger on Sam's face when he'd 'exorsised' that demon was making it hard for Dean to tolerate his brother right now.

"So... where to now?"

Dean said nothing, simple slotting a Led Zeppelin tape into the player, and turning up the volume as loud as it could go.

Sam winced as the deafening electric guitar solo flooded the car, rolling his eyes and sighing at Deans childishness.

This car ride was going to last forever.

* * *

They pulled into an abandoned gas stop as the sun was rising, the scene unusually attractive for a world turned so gruesome and cruel.

Checking the rear view mirror, Sam could see Bobby pulling up after them. All three of them had gone days without sleep, and Sam realised they'd just broken day 3 with the rising of the sun.

He felt the pressure of a building headache start to appear, and blamed it on his lack of sleep. Constant headaches and illness was nothing unusual nowadays. You could almost be grateful that it wasn't a crote bite.

Dean got out of the car as soon as he possibly could, which sam picked up on, his stomach sinking.

The pain of his headache grew suddenly and he winced, clenching his hands into a tight fist.

Two piercing yellow eyes flashed across his vision, dissapearing as quickly as they'd appeared.

The pain fading to a dull throb, and he opened his eyes.

What the fuck?

He had no time to look deeper into what that could possibly mean, jumping as Bobby knocked on the dusty window of the impala.

Smiling reasurringly, he slinked out of the car. Bobby observed him with a suspicious eye.

"Alright there Sam?"

Sam smiled again.

"Yeah. I mean, fine. Just tired and sleep deprived."

Yeah, that's a convincing explanation for what had just happened.

"Sure. That's understandable."

Deans shouts rang loud and clear through the gas station, Sam going cold and immediately reaching for his gun, Bobby reacting just as quickly.

Through the dusty glass of the gas station, Sam could see the twisted body of a crote approaching his apparently disarmed brother.

"Dean..."

Sam and Bobby burst through the door of the gas station, Sam going cold as he saw the intertwined and tangled mess of Dean and the crote, Dean trying to push the crote away from his exposed neck.

Bobby tried to take aim, but it wasn't a clear shot.

Fuck, it wasn't a clear shot.

And as much as he knew it would endlessly piss his brother off, the pensive burning of his powers was overwhelming, and he held his hand up.

Closing his eyes, Sam focused everything on getting the pale monster off of his brother. The surging energy was overwhelming, and the euphoria of it tingling at his fingertips was like an incredible high, he felt invincible.

Sam splayed his fingers, feeling the energy radiate outwards. A hard thud forced him to open his eyes. Brought out of his trance likestate, he was forced to acknowledge his piercing headache and the drop of blood running down his lips.

He'd succeeded, the crote was lying motionless against the wall, but he could felt the judgemental eyes of Dean and Bobby fixed on him.

Dean had uprighted himself, and he was brushing himself off, his motions angry and blunt.

"I'll leave you two boys to talk."

Sam looked up at Bobby as he slowly exited the gas station, swinging his shotgun by his side.

Dean shook his head, and began to walk towards the exit.

"Dean. Wait."

Dean froze.

"I'm sorr-"

Before Sam even got the chance to finish his sentence, Dean's fist had connected with Sam's cheek, and Sam was stumbling back from the force of Dean's punch.

"Do you know how much danger you're putting us in?" Dean hissed, angry as all hell.

Sam, shocked and taken aback, wiped the blood cautiously from his lip.

"You're giving in to exactly want the yellow eyed demon wanted you to do."

"I only do it to help you."

Dean scoffed, shaking his head.

"You do it for yourself Sam, because it makes you feel better."

Sam shook his head, casting his eyes downwards.

"I'm only going to say this once. If you ever do that again, you're out. I can't have you putting us in danger."

Sam felt his insides churning at the anger and spite in deans words, choking to hold back tears.

"Please Dean, Just think about-"

"You know what Dad told me right before he-" Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, "-died? He told me I'd have to kill you if you became evil."

Silence fell between the boys as Sam tried to process.

Sam nodded, holding back tears. He waited for a second just to see If Dean might apologise, before walking out of the gas station.

The colour was mostly drained from the night sky, and it's beauty was comforting.

He savoured the frigidity of the air, it's coldness envoloping him and seeping through his jacket.

He felt terrible. His head was pounding, his insides felt entirely curdled and what Dean had said to him wouldn't stop replaying in his head. He walked to the impala, resting his tired body against it's slender frame.

"Sam." Bobby said in greeting, coming to stand next to him.

They both looked into the gas station as Dean walked around, searching the place for anything worth taking.

Bobby took a deep breath before talking.

"You know he only wants the best for you Sammy."

Sam chuffed, looking down at his feet.

"Yeah I know. I just don't see why he doesn't want me to use-" Sam stammered, unsure of what to call his abilities. "-my powers."

"It's cos he don't know how to control them. He don't know how to be alright with you being different."

Sam stayed silent, wishing he had some pain relief or even some alcohol to soothe his growing headache.

"Fuck, this headaches really-"

A blinding hot pain shot through his body, crying out as he felt himself fall to the ground and his vision dimming, the world shifting to a dark road, with a welcoming sign for 'Port Townsend.'

Another sudden shudder brought him to a decrepit and dusty main room, paint peeling from every wall. A young woman, and a girl no more than 8 sat huddled behind a moth eaten coach, intertwined in each other arms.

Sam's vision was jolting, switching from one view to another in lightning speed. A pounding at the door made the young girl cry and whine, her mother clutching her closer and shushing her frantically.

A rough voice shouted to let 'them' in, the girl whimpering as her mum clamped her hand over the girls mouth.

His vision shuddered suddenly to the same eerie image of the yellow eyes for a split second, and he was brought back to the waking world.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this weeks chapter xx**


	3. Walk On The Wild Side

**Hey guys!**

 **i'm sorry for not updating this story in a little while, the past couple of weeks have been really busy and hectic for me. this chapter is a little darker than the first two, but i don't think any of you will mind too much.**

 **the next chapter will come in the next 1-2 weeks, but don't hold me to that, especially as i'm going back to school tomorrow.**

 **hope yoy enjoy, lily x**

* * *

"Dean, we have to go!"

Dean sighed in exasperation, looking to Bobby for help, who just shrugged.

"Sam, you're being stupid. It was probably just a dream."

It was Sam's turn to sigh, shaking his head.

"I know what I saw was real. And I know we have to save these people! I can't believe you're basically going to let them die."

"Stop being overdramatic Sammy."

Sam gave Dean his puppy dog eyes, pouting.

"Please Dean. I need to do this."

Dean paused for a second, considering. Their actual destination was down in Florida, not a nowhere town in Washington. But was there really any rush nowadays? The world was fucked and it wasn't going to be getting any better.

Rolling his eyes, Dean gave into his brothers incessant pleading. "What the hell." He grumbled.

Bobby chuckled in the background as Sam grinned lopsidedly at his victory, thanking Dean profusely.

* * *

Bobby chucked his duffel bag into the back of his truck, patting the side of his trusted vehicle and turning around to talk to Dean, Sam sitting in the impala.

"I'll meet you boys back in Sioux Falls once you're done with this business."

Dean looked back in the impalas direction, nodding at Bobbys' words.

"He'll be alright son."

Dean shook his head.

"No. No he won't. Not if he doesn't stop with this... shit."

"He's a clever boy Dean. Im sure this won't go on for long, not if we're around to stop him."

Dean nodded, taking in Bobbys words.

"Yeah I know. I'm just worried about him. After what azazel said to him, I just wish he realised what he's doing to himself."

The two men stood in silence, both of them lost in thought.

Dean was brought back to reality when his brother knocked impatiently on the window of the impala, frowning at Dean.

Bobby smiled at Sam, curtly waving goodbye.

"See you later Bobby."

Bobby slid into his truck, its old and rusty frame groaning under the pressure.

"Alright Dean. You boys stay safe."

Dean smirked. "as always."

"Good luck."

* * *

The drive was long and rough, Dean wise enough to know to take back roads. The scenery was unsurprisingly beautiful, getting more breathtaking the further north they travelled. The brothers sat in silence, unsure of how to approach each other without immediately breaking into argument.

Dean had something to say though, and he was just waiting and trying to pick an opportune moment. Sam's head was rested against the impala, worry plastered over his face. His little brother had always been an open book.

"Sam."

"Hm?"

"I need you to promise me something."

Sam frowned.

"What?"

"Please... please don't keep using these powers. It's playing with fire."

Sam took a deep breath, shifting in his seat.

"Yeah. Yeah of course Dean. I never wanted to start using them again."

With no hesitation, dean fired back. "But you did."

Sam stayed silent.

"What else do you want me to say Dean?"

"That you'll stop with all of this after we sort this situation out."

"I already said that I would."

"Well then, we don't have a problem, do we?"

Sam grimaced, annoyed by deans patronising voice. Unconsciously, his fist began to clench and unclench, trying to avoid any unnecessary interaction with his older brother.

Bitter and angry, sam chided in a final dig, and as soon as he said it he knew he he'd gone too far.

"At least I can actually save people." Sam snarkily remarked.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head.

"You _know_ that wasn't my fault."

It was low and childish and completely unnecessary, and Sam grimaced after he said it, immediately regretful.

"Dean, I'm sorry-"

"Save it."

Dean slammed a led zep cassette into the radio, and turning up the volume to almost max, he accelerated, the impala rumbling powerfully.

* * *

The town of Sioux Falls was desolate and ruined, each road littered with rubbish and covered in blood and guts. It was a horror filled nightmare, and bobby observed the macabre scene with melancholy.

His neighbours were long gone, starved to death or bitten by crotes. He took the turn down deeper into the wilderness, the entrance to his beloved junkyard overgrown with weeds and shrubbery. Stopping the car, he got out warily.

The lights were on in his house.

What the hell?

Creeping forward and staying in the shadows he approached the familiar house that seemed so alien and remote now.

His living room had been trashed, the furniture upturned and the walls splattered with blood.

Stepping backwards, away from the rancid condition of his house, he stumbled over an empty bottle and fell against a car.

" _Shit_." Bobby cursed under his breath.

Almost immediately he heard the echo of someone shouting angrily, and he ducked down into the shadows, his heart beating insanely fast.

He ducked away behind the car when two faces appeared at the window, their guns held ready in front of them.

"Who the fuck is out there?!" One of them shouted in a deep southern drawl, cocking his gun aggressively.

Bobby winced, weighing up his options. If he ran now they'd probably just gun him down straight away. if he revealed himself in surrender they'd probably do the same.

Bobby slowly poked his head out from behind the car, his insides churning and his heart thumping in his chest.

Revealing himself to the two hostile men, he put his hands above his head as a peace offering.

Their faces turned sour and angry, their shouts loud as they told Bobby exactly what they thought of him.

Realising the futility of his attempt at surrender as he heard the two men cocking their guns, Bobby turned on his heels and began to run, flinching away from the sound of gunfire.

* * *

Sam and Dean had gotten to an abandoned motel just as the sun was setting, the mood sour, both of them tense and uncomfortable in each other's presence.

Sam had tried apologising to Dean when they'd gotten there, but dean had responded in complete stoïc silence, throwing sam an icy glare. Sam knew this warning all too well, Dean was warning him as clearly as possible to _not poke the bear._

The evening dragged on, sam taking respite in the warmth of the shower, both of them surprised the plumbing was still working and intact. The respite also came from the lack of his brothers intimidating presence, the time he'd spent in the motel room unbearable.

His comfort was soon disturbed though as Dean angrily knocked at the door and shouted ant Sam, reminding him that he was 'selfish and had to leave some hot water for Dean.'

The tension had become paramount as they lounged on their assigned beds, and finally unable to bear it for any longer Sam had left the room to get some fresh air.

Embracing the blast of chilly air like a warm hug, Sam closed his eyes, inhaling as deeply as his lungs could allow.

He wondered where Bobby was and how he was getting on, and in a brief moment of morbidity Sam wondered if Bobby was still even alive.

Sam walked over to the gleaming, impeccably kept impala and leant against it, staring up at the blank canvas of the night sky.

Recalling the words shared earlier on, sam flinched at his own stupidity. Dean was right, he knew it wasn't his brothers fault, and yet it had seemed impossible to stop the cruel words from escaping his mouth.

A crash from behind the ice machine shocked Sam, his instinct to reach into his waistband and pull out his pistol. The silence that ensued was comforting, but not comforting enough. Sam walked forward cautiously, clicking the safety off on his gun.

He hesitated as he got closer, a rustling in the darkness of the shadow of the motel ringing alarm bells.

"Who's there?" Sam whispered, readjusting his grip on his gun.

A growl sent paralysing fear coursing through Sam.

He had hardly any time to react before a malformed mass of limbs flung itself at him, Sam flinging his gun hand outwards, sending the creature to the ground with it squealing like an injured dog.

It leapt up almost immediately, scuttling towards him on all fours, its back left leg bent awkwardly inwards.

Disturbed by the nightmare fuel, Sam was paralysed mid combat and had no time to react as the thing knocked him to the ground, his head colliding with the gravel and the world became background noise as the pain overtook his senses.

The snarl of the crote brought him back to reality and sam sluggishly punched the creature, the punch weak and insubstantial, but enough to relieve the pressure on his chest slightly.

He punched again, this time the punch hard and heavy, the crote falling back with a hiss, giving sam enough time to stumble to his feet, the world spinning around him. The crote got to its legs and ran towards Sam, who in turn grabbed the monster and threw it at the ice machine, it's head bouncing off of the metal with a sickening thud.

The creature lay motionless on the ground, blood pooling behind its head from the cut wound on its forehead, the blood spurting out in pulses.

Sam stared at the constant rhythm of this, the pulses slowing down as the life drained from the crotes body.

Oh god. Why did he have this magnetic pull towards the growing puddle of blood? The pull was strong as all hell, his vision going blurry as the desire deepened to a raw primal urge and all he could think about was blood.

And before he knew it he was on top of the creature, his shaking finger slowly dipping into the puddle of blood, the thick liquid warm on his skin.

He brought it to his lips, and licked it all off, gasping at the euphoria this new sensation brought along with it.

And he couldn't stop himself as he reached down to the pool of blood, this time cupping his hands like a bowl as he scooped as much of the liquid into his hands as possible.

Lapping it up like a cat does to milk, he slipped further into the feeling of total control and calm, the pain flooding from his body and power tingling at his fingertips, buzzing to be released.

And he needed more, so Sam didn't waste any time trying to scoop it up in his hands, he just licked it off of the ground, moaning with pleasure as the feeling intensified to its limit.

Sam fell on his back, panting from the exertion. His eyes were completely glazed and blood coated his face; he'd practically bled the crote dry. His vision began to dim suddenly, the world turning black and nausea rolled over him, sam swallowing profusely to try and keep the vomit back.

He knew he'd gone too far, he knew he should've stopped as soon he'd started, but the desire to roll back over and lick the remaining blood off from the pavement was still as strong as before.

But something was wrong. Feeling and sensation had left his body, and his vision was almost completely gone. Something was definitely wrong. He tried to open his mouth to scream for help, but his body disobeyed and he lay silently in numb agony, unsure of whether he was dead or alive.

And finally the blackness became all envoloping, and Sam slipped under.

* * *

 **thanks for reading and i hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **(reviews are appreciated x)**

 **lily**


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